There’s a hotelroom with me and you on the walls
by Crazy4Moony
Summary: One-shots set in a hotelroom, second: you can not believe how much trouble a blonde has to go through to get to his lover! When said lover decides to be a total prick, what's Mello supposed to do? Strip, perhaps? That will show the bastard! Or will it?
1. Room One: Beach

**There's a hotel-room with me and you painted on the walls.**

Room one: Beach

The hotel screamed '_sophisticated'_ and _'refined'_, the tiles of the finest marble, and the chandelier real gold. It certainly made Mello feel out-of-place—but what could he say? Near liked places like this, where he could hide in his room and have food—nice, neutral food with great sauces—brought up. Places like these where he could find comfort, and have a good sleep—even though he only slept for four hours, max. It was madness, but it was his job—taking over the most active part of being L. Yes, Mello and Matt helped, but there was still a difference. Near never stopped working. Mello and Matt per example, went to the beach, as they had today.

Talking about the beach, it'd put him in a quite troublesome state. Now, Mello didn't really care about what people thought, and if they wanted to stare, let them. If they talk behind his back, it means he's interesting enough, and that idea appeals him. But he still felt somewhat hesitant as to enter the lobby. A day with Matt on the beach meant that he was wearing a jeans short—old, and only meant for rolling around in the sand—that reached mid-thigh, with a white belt, and his black waistcoat. Since Mello had been as stupid as to forget his change of clothes, and had sent them to the hotel right away, he had no choice but to enter in his current outfit. And the fact that Matt had been kind enough to lend him a jacket—thick with a fuzzy hood—made him look even more like a freak. He liked 'freak' when he was wearing tight leather pants and combat boots with an iron tip, and when he looked dangerous. Now he glared, but the fact that he was wearing a fucking _short_, and stupid _sneakers_ made him look less dangerous—though still quite intimidating. Because let's face it, he might as well be hopping around in a pink bunny-suit—a glaring Mello is still something you fear.

He sighed deeply, snapped off a chunk of chocolate, and approached the entrance, glare in place. The man opened the glass door for him, smiling somewhat mockingly, but one glance at the blonde's face made him stop immediately.

Mello went straight over to the desk, glaring at anyone who even dared to look funny at him—and okay, he looked kind of weird, he still frightened the hell out of people, so he was happy. The man behind the front desk looked down at him with somewhat of distaste, but Mello chose to ignore that, and leaned against the desk.

"How may I help you sir?" The man asked, jaw clenched.

"I'm looking for a young man," Mello purred sweetly. "He's about eighteen and probably wearing white clothes. He checked in the day before yesterday."

"Ah, of course, he said someone would come by today," the man took an envelope. "Here's the key to his room, but mister Phoenix is in the hotel's restaurant right now," Mello got the key from the envelope, considering to change first, but then decided against it—he hadn't seen Near for quite a while, and he was only going up that room with the prospect of sex. Because Goddammit, two weeks without sex made him grumpy! "Through that door sir." The man pointed at a set of grand doors, and rumpled his nose.

"Thanks," Mello took of his jacket, and gave it to the man, grinning slightly. "Can you take this up to the room for me please?"

The man tilted his head in disgust, but nodded, ringing for a bellboy right away. Mello tucked his hands into his pockets, and walked into the restaurant.

He scanned the room once, and saw Near immediately. He stood out against the crowd, with his clear, white clothes—everyone else was mainly wearing expensive black dresses or dark tuxedos. The pale boy was talking to one of the waitresses, and she laughed—Mello fumed on the inside, he was quite the jealous type. He made his way through the people—everyone staring at him—over to Near. The waitress straightened her back when she saw him coming, obviously a bit confused about his appearance, but so were most of the people, so it didn't matter. When he reached the two, he kissed Near's cheek—his eyes widened a bit, since he hadn't seen the blonde coming—and looked the woman right in the eye. She left without another word.

"Mister Phoenix?" Mello asked, sitting down across from the younger boy. "Where did you get that?"

"River Phoenix." Near said, smiling slightly at the other.

"My own private Idaho?" Mello grinned, remembering the movie.

"Stand by me," Near admitted, and pulled his leg closer to his chest. "Where have you been?"

"Beach," Mello leaned back, twirling the keys around his finger. "We had our day off and Matt insisted we'd spend it somewhere sunny—some place we hadn't been in a while, somewhere different. So I agreed and he took me to the fucking beach," his other hand pulled out his bar and brought the chocolate to his lips, but before he bit off a piece, he purred seductively: "I'm gonna need a shower later—there's sand _everywhere_."

Near's smile grew and the waitress returned to their table, carrying a glass of ice-tea. She gave it to him, ignoring the blonde and battering her eyelashes. Mello frowned. Near glanced at him when he noticed this, and asked politely: "would you like something too?"

"Sex," he said—a bit too loudly: the people at the table next to them nearly choked on their water and wine, the others stared insulted at the blonde's potty-mouth—and bit off another chunk. "Now, preferably. I told Matt I'd be getting some tonight."

"We're in a restaurant, it would be a little inappropriate." Near said, sipping his drink. The waitress' eyes grew—needless to say, she stopped battering her lashes.

"But... mister Phoenix," Mello whined girlishly. "You have a whole fucking suite to yourself! It would be a waste not to use if for sex! And loads of it!"

"I'm drinking ice-tea," Near drank a bit to prove his point. "I can't have sex now."

"I swear to God, I'm going to throw the thing across the room if you don't drink it faster," Mello leaned over the table to Near, who pulled back a little. "So we can have sex sooner—because seriously, there're better occupations for those perky lips of yours."

"So orally fixated—do behave." Near scolded.

"Ah well," Mello leaned back again, and the waitress just stood there—Mello frowned at her, then said: "it's a stage we should all go through."

"How Freudian of you." Mello winked at the boy, and continued twirling the key around his finger.

When the waitress made no movements to leave, Near smiled at her and said: "that'll be all, thank you."

She gave a nod, and left. Mello placed one of his feet between Near's legs, as he drank some more of the tea. Then he glanced down, and an odd little smirk appeared on his lips.

"Don't tell me... sneakers?" He said in disbelieve, and Mello laughed, poking his thigh with his foot.

"I won't have you mocking my sneakers mister Phoenix," Mello teased, and caressed Near's thigh. The boy's eyes started glistering. "You're in a very compromising position here, it'd do you good to watch your tongue."

Near said nothing, but drank his ice-tea, gulping it down in one go—it was rather cute, and Mello's grin grew. When he put down the glass and flashed Mello a smile, the older boy got up immediately, tugging Near off his chair.

"That's a good boy." He pushed his way through the people—some of the other guests looking at him with chagrin—and into the lobby again.

The waitress that had been flirting with the pale boy before glared at them, and Mello rudely gave her the finger—to which Near wanted to protest, but he was too busy trying not to bump into people as Mello dragged him out of the restaurant.

In the lobby everyone looked a bit shocked, and Mello finally slowed down, waiting for the elevator. People were staring and whispering, but Mello didn't give a fuck. He grinned at the smaller boy, before bending down and kissing his lips. Near immediately wrapped his arms around the blonde's neck, and the elevator-doors opened. They reluctantly separated, and went into the elevator—the people inside stared at them, eyes wide, but they chose to ignore it.

As soon as they entered the elevator, people shuffled back a bit—Near wasn't used to being looked at like he was a freak, mostly his 'weirdness' was overruled by his cuteness-factor, but when with Mello, being stared at was _inevitable_.

"I still can't believe you're wearing actual shorts." Near remarked, looking up at the tall blonde. He didn't mind though—they made his legs look even longer and more beautiful—it was just a funny sight to see him in jean-shorts like that.

"It don't really matter," Mello grinned, nibbling the remnants of his chocolate bar. "I'll be taking them off soon enough."

"Aha, for your shower." Near nodded in comprehension, but the blonde chuckled.

"No," he insisted. "For the mad sex we'll be having. Keep up mister Phoenix—you're loosing track."

"I can't be blamed—I drank that ice-tea way too fast."

Mello wrapped his arm around Near's hip—a woman in the back gasped—and pulled the smaller body close. Nuzzling his ear he whispered: "don't you fret—I'll make it worth your while."

"I'm sure you will." Near agreed, and Mello kissed him again, before a TING indicated that the elevator had stopped.

Glancing at the floor-number, Near gave a nod of his head, and they stepped out, sliding into the broad hallway. A younger couple followed them—the woman had a straight face, lips pursed together tightly. The man accompanying her gave them a look of utter disgust, but Mello ignored him completely, following the pale boy down the hall.

When Near'd unlocked the door he let Mello in first, closing the door behind him again. Mello scanned the room—it didn't really look like it was occupied. The bed was perfectly made—and kind of large for such a small boy—and Near's clothes were still in his suitcase. He didn't like unpacking, since he'd have to repack after a couple of days again. Mello's trunk stood in the middle of the room, with his coat neatly draped across it.

"So," Mello turned around and grinned at Near, before kicking off his shoes. He started on his belt and bent his head slightly to kiss the boy again. "I say we move on to the state of undress and have a shower. What do you think, mister Phoenix?"

"I think I'd like that very much."

Mello threw his waistcoat to the floor, and, heading to the door that most likely lead to the bathroom, he stepped out of his jeans-short—giving Near a perfect view of his bare behind.

"I thought you would, little perv." Winking, Mello disappeared.

Needless to say, Mello got some that night.

**AN: I'm starting a new series, and as grand opening I give you Nate's birthday present! (I know I'm a bit late, it was the 24****th**** but my laptop was behaving oddly and wouldn't open my files, so I couldn't finish) Well, happy birthday! Long may you live, do continue to be a great ball of fluff, and tell Mihael I said hi!**

**So, this is the first one of a series of hotel-adventures. Be warned: the oneshots have no link—besides the fact that the setting will always be a hotel-room—so if I suddenly hook Mello and Matt up, don't think he's cheating on Near or something**


	2. Room two: Jealous

Room two: Jealous

Mello didn't feel guilty at all. He told Matt he'd be gone for a couple of days—without giving too much info—and left a note on Roger's desk. Perhaps it wasn't completely fair to be skipping school like this, but he couldn't care less.

Tracking the man's exact location down was no where near easy. It took him ages—he swopped hotels every three days, so Mello needed to find his current hotel in a short period, and leave the same day. That way he would arrive on the second day, and he was reassured the man still lived in the same place—the plan was flawless, and it had been stressful. Every time he'd track the right hotel down, the man would leave the same day, and Mello was left in to find out which one he'd be occupying next.

He timed his arrival at the hotel perfectly—he had no idea what room the older man would be in, so he decided to stalk one of the cops. The youngest one—a man named Matsuda—would be freaked out most by his appearance. Due to his slight incompetence the others would probably pay no mind to his warnings—and if Mello hurried up, he'd have no trouble getting into the room. After that, any problems that might have occurred would dissolve into nothingness.

When he entered the lobby he immediately saw the Matsuda-man. He was nervously shifting through some folders, waiting for the ten-minute interval to pass so he could go up to the room. An old couple passed Mello and clucked in distaste—too bad he couldn't kick their asses, because he would've, even if they were old. He had done his best to blend in—really, he'd even left out the leather. If he'd been wearing his leather trousers, and one of the camera's picked him up he'd be too recognisable. So he'd decided to wear navy blue tight jeans and a grey shirt. He'd even put his hair up in a ponytail—that way he'd definitely be unrecognisable. The only thing he'd kept were his boots—he loved those, and needed them! I mean... what if someone just attacked him out of the blue? At least now he could kick their buts with iron tips—it was all just for safety reasons, really.

He flopped down into one of the expensive seats, and waited for the raven to head for the elevator. Getting up he pulled out a bar of chocolate, and when the young man gave him a suspicious look he simply got into the elevator with him.

Mello could practically see the sweat forming at the raven's temple when he got off on the same floor—even more so when he casually headed the same way. No way Mello was going to waste his time with being subtle. Every time the man looked back, Mello pretended to be reading the room-numbers, muttering one out loud to make it seem as if he was looking for his own room. When he saw the man stop at a particular door he continued walking—Matsuda waited for him to pass before opening the door and closing it again.

In his haste to get inside—and away from his blonde stalker—he hadn't locked the door and it took no time whatsoever to get into the room. No one even noticed, until he reached the main room. Then all hell broke lose.

There were four guns pointing at him, and one brunette stood staring at him as if he was mad. He wasn't aiming for the brunette though, and smiled cheekily when he saw his target sitting hunched over in a chair.

People were going a bit mad, demanding orders but he ignored them—he was good at ignoring people—and walked further into the room. They apparently thought he was about to attack their boss, because they kept on yelling, 'don't go further or we'll shoot'. He didn't buy it, but stopped in the middle of the room. The chair swivelled, everyone stopped talking, and L looked up at him with big innocent eyes.

"You'd think that after catching the world's most dangerous criminals your panda-factor would've reduced," he said pensively, and snapped off a piece of chocolate. Matsuda whimpered. "But it just keeps on increasing."

Silence. Mello zipped his jacket open.

"Right," he frowned slightly, lowering his chocolate bar. "Or you're in a state of shock or you're debating what way to punish me for my indecent behaviour and the fact I ran away from '_home_'," he looked around—perhaps the idea _wasn't_ as good as he thought it'd be, and if the bastard didn't want to be happy to see him, he could go fuck himself. Surely Watari would be pleased. "Isn't Watari here?"

More stares and L opened his mouth. Then closed it again.

"You—you're," he stuttered, and pointed at Mello in shock. Everyone stilled stared at him. "A... ponytail."

Mello glared, crossing his arms—the _bitch_!

"Nine months and I get complaints about my hair!" he spat, tapping his foot furiously. "You stupid wanker! I could easily tell you you look like crap, but nooo, I keep my manners! What? An '_I missed you too Mello_' can't quite cut it for the great L? Bastard."

"You missed me?" L tipped his head to the side—he looked cute.

"Of course not," Mello gave a wave of his hand—Matsuda lowered his gun. The brunette next to L's chair frowned deeper. "I'm here for the sex. You were rude, so you'll have to make it up to me," he shook his finger warningly, and dropped through his knees, beginning to undo his laces. "I'll start undressing now to make it easier on you later."

He pulled off one shoe, and started on the next. L got off his chair—Mello ignored him, and after he'd dumped his two shoes and socks on the floor, he pulled off his shirt over his head. L's eyes widened and Mello smirked—that would teach him. Getting naked in a crowd would make him _so_ jealous, he might just _die_ of rage. But it was only fair, seeing as he was being such a bastard.

He pulled his hair loose, dropping the black ribbon to the floor as well. L glared at him when he pulled off his top, revealing his toned chest and tanned skin. Mello tipped up an eyebrow—daring and teasing him to just _react_. Instead he left the room angrily. The blonde shrugged, knowing he'd be back and started undoing his first button. Everyone was just staring at him—practically _drooling_ really—and he inwardly grinned. They were all pervs, honestly.

L reappeared, carrying a towel. His team looked at him in question, then returned their attention to Mello as he lowered his tight jeans. He hooked his thumbs in his boxers, and just as he went to push them off L wrapped the towel around the blonde's body, glaring at him still. The black underwear fell to the floor with a soft thump, and the old man in the corner—Soichiro—gasped. The brunette glared.

L draped the towel safely around the lithe body and stepped back to examine his handy-work. Mello huffed indignantly, kicking away his boxers.

"You just undressed." L said, still glaring childishly.

"Indeed I did," Mello nodded, glancing around the room. "Too bad you can't be more like them L," he gave a nod to the team—they'd reduced to a bunch of drooling idiots. Except for the brunette and his father. "They seem to know when to enjoy a naked blonde standing in a living room."

"You just undressed in front of my _entire_ team!" L protested—Mello inwardly grinned wider, _oh yes_, the man was jealous. He only glared like that when he was envious—he didn't like to share what was rightfully his.

"You mocked my ponytail and refused to sweep me of my feet for a night of respectably much shagging," Mello wrapped his arms more comfortable around his body—he winked at Matsuda for good luck. The man fainted, something suspiciously bloodlike trickling down his nose. "I had to take some action—if you won't have me, there's others waiting around the corner."

"You're not very loyal, are you?" L chided, eyes widening.

Mello looked insulted.

"I come all the way to Japan, and you doubt my loyalty? I could've stayed home and shagged Matt instead you know! But I was horny and thought: let's visit L after I purchased some more Cadbury."

"Nice to know you get your priorities right." L suddenly smiled his weird smile.

"Always," Mello gave him a quick kiss before looking at the brunette suddenly. "What's with him? Did you screw him? Is that why he's looking like a hurt puppy?"

Light's eyes widened and L turned.

"Light-kun? Of course not," L looked back at Mello. "He's not blonde and I doubt he can twist his tongue like you do," he took the blonde's hand and nodded to his team. "Continue with the investigation. We will be... occupied for a couple of hours."

They watched as L and Mello walked into the bedroom—no one was really surprised when Mello's towel flew out of the room seconds later, before Watari emerged from the kitchen and shut the bedroom door.

**AN: Well... that was definitely weird. I'm not sure I can justify that—I wanted a MelloL thing and well... that's it, I suppose. I kinda like the pairing, and I'll do one later... for now, I'll try to make this a bit more normal again. I promise.**


End file.
